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OELIVEUED BEFOUE THE 



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PSiJateljjjim ^otietp for promotins ^fincuKture, 



AT ITS ANNUAL MEETING, 



FIFTEENTH OF JANUARY, 1822. 



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PKTNTED BY ORDER OF THE SOCIETY. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

Clark & Raser, Printers, No. 33, Carter's Alley^ 
1829. 



At a meeting of the " Philadelphia Society for 
promoting Agriculture," held 1st mo. I5th, 1822: 

The annual address was deUvered by Nicholas 
Biddle, Esquire: 

Whereupon, Resolved unanimously, That the 
thanks of the Society be presented to Nicholas 
Biddle, Esquire, for his eloquent oration this day 
pronounced, and that he be requested to furnish 
a copy for pubUcation. 

From the Minutes. 

ROBERTS VAUX, Secretarif. 



Mr. President, and Gentlemen of the Agi-icultural Society: 

I congratulate you on the return of this anniversary of our 
Society. I rejoice with you that another year has been added 
to its long career of usefulness — and that, as the occupations 
of this day prove, we are prepared to resume our labours 
with undiminished zeal and increased resources. It is now 
nearly forty years, since a few sagacious and distinguished 
gentlemen, who had honourably served their country during 
the war, wisely judging that its prosperity in peace eminently 
depended on its agriculture, laid the foundation of this insti- 
tution, the first, and for a long time, the only Agricultural So- 
ciety in America. From that period to the present day, its 
members have been unwearied in cherisliing the best interests 
of the nation. An extensive correspondence with the enlight- 
ened farmers of Europe — the introduction of the latest writ- 
ings — of the most improved implements — of new varieties of 
plants — and the best breeds of animals, gave them advantages 
which they have impai'ted to their countrymen with a libe- 
rality worthy of all praise. 

From these efforts they have reaped an abundant harvest. 
They may find it in the distinction which their labours have 
acquired among the agriculturists of Europe — they may find 
it in the homage whicli every section of the union is offering 
to the Society, by following its example — they may find it 



6 

uiidor a Ikr mure delightt'iil form, in llic satisfaction of having 
contributt'd to the advancement of their country, wliich has pre- 
sented a scene of at^ricultiiral prosperity, such as was never 
before given to tlie hopes of men. These ai-e natural and 
gratifying reflections. It will, however, better accord with 
the uiiJissiiming and practical character of the Society, if in- 
stead of indulging in [jcrsonal feelings, we endeavour to make 
even this meeting not wholly unprofitable, by an attempt, ne- 
cessarily hastj' and imperfect, to compare the situation of the 
best cultivated parts of Europe with our own — to observe the 
means of improvement which the examination presents? — and 
to suggest such topics as may recommend the pursuit of agri- 
culture in IVnnsylvania. 

In this in(piiry our curiosity is naturally fii*st attracted to- 
wards those distinguished nations in the south of Europe, 
who after filling the world with their fame, have passed 
away, bequeathing to posterity some of the noblest works of 
genius, and the purest examples of human character. Un- 
doubtedly in all that remains of them, wo may trace the evi- 
dences of strong attachment to rural life, and an exquisite 
j)erception of ils enjoyments. Undoubtedly the cultivators of 
the soil were among the most distinguished citizens ; and the 
pui-suits of agriculture have rarely been embellished by so 
much elmpience, or sung with so much enthusiasm, as by the 
great writers of antitjuity. IJut this intellectual enjoyment of 
the country may well consist with au imperfect condition ol 
husbandry. The natural feelings belong to all times, but 
science is nccessai'ily jji-ogressive ; nor does it detract in any 
degree fii>m the merits of the farmere of ancient days, that 
in an era of conq)arativ<' infancy, in the physical sciences, 
liny were not a(lvan( ed bevoiMl the kiu)wledge of their age. 
I incline t« think then that oui- natural reverence for ancient 



7 

nations, has exaggerated the value of their agriculture, and 
that a deliberate examination of their history and their writ- 
ings, is calculated to lower the general estimate of the scien- 
tific management of their lands. 

Thus the most distinguished people of antiquity, the Athe- 
nians, were extremely attached to the country life; yet their 
agriculture must have been imperfect. Attica is a small, 
ridgy, poor district of land, about one-third as large as the 
neighbouring county of Bucks, with a very light calcareous 
soil, so dry, that it would not yield pasture to support the 
cavalry employed in its defence, and so unproductive, that it 
did not afford grain enough for the subsistence of the farmers 
themselves. Its supplies of grain were annually imported, 
and its chief produce then was, as it is now, the honey from 
its hills, and the olive which delights in its thin dry soil. 

Their great rivals occupied a larger, and rather a better 
country, but their habits and their institutions estranged 
them totally from the cultivation of it. The territory of 
Sparta was divided into small lots, each yielding about 70 
bushels of grain, with a proportion of wine and oil ; and these 
were cultivated, not by the owners themselves, who disdained 
the pacific labours of husbandry, but by a class of people, 
half slaves and half tenants, who gave a fixed proportion of 
the produce to the landlords. Such a state of things must be 
inauspicious to agriculture; the frugality of the owner being 
satisfied by a very moderate production, and the depressed 
condition of the tenant, rarely giving him the means or the 
wish of improving his farm. The rest of the Greek states 
seem to have supplied their own consumption : but the obser- 
vation of one of their best farmers, Xenophon, that agriculture 
is the easiest of all the arts, and readily acquired by a little 
attention to the execution, reveals better than any collection 



8 

of facts, the true state of Gi'eek husbandly; pui'ticularl^- as 
it is confirmed by the remains of all the georgical writei-s of 
Greece, wliich have readied us. 

We have ain[)Ier information with rc.t^rd to tlie ancient state 
of Italy. The institutions and the manners of the early Ro- 
mans must have been sins^ulai-ly favourable to aj^riculture. 
The extreme subiUvision of tlic soiJ, cultivated by the pro- 
prietor himself, seems to present the strongest incentive of 
necessity and interest to good husbandry. Thus the first al- 
lotment to each individual was two acres."^ How long this 
limitation continued, is unknoNvn ; but, on the establishment of 
the republic, 245 years afterwards, the limit was fixed at seven 
acrcs.f This, like all unnatural arrangements which restrict 
human industry, gave way before the progress of wealth and 
inequality; for, in about a century and a half, a law prohibited 
the possession by any individual of more than five hundred. 
But the change of manners, the infatuation of power, above 
all the introduction of slavery, rendered it diilicult to enforce 
these restraints, and the career of this inequality did not stop 
till, as is confessed by Pliny, the extensive estates had destroy- 
ed Rome and the provinces, and one half of Africa w as owned 
by six Roman families whom Nero destroyed. In the pro- 
gress of these changes, the best remembrances of the Roman 
power, as well as the highest advancement of its agricul- 
ture, are connected with the period immediately succeeding 
the forination of the republic, N\hen the allotment of seven 
acres continued to be generally maintained, and it was deemed 
wrong ill a senator to jiossess more than fifty. It was during 
this {leriod that the farm of Cincinnatus consisted of four 



• About one acre ami a cuiaitor American measure. 
I Four uiid unc-Uiinl acres American measure. 



9 

acres, the other three having been lost by his becoming secu- 
rity for a friend. It was then that Ciirius, on his return from 
a successful campaign, refused from the people a grant of fifty 
acres, declaring, that he was a bad citizen who could not be 
contented with the old allowance of seven. We cannot doubt 
that this subdivision of the soil required good cultivation to 
satisfy the wants even of the most frugal. But in the days 
.which are cited as the most distinguished in her history, when 
Rome spread over Italy and almost all the ancient world — 
the substitution of slaves for free labourers had given a new 
character to agriculture. In that period almost all Italy was 
cultivated by slaves — not like that unhappy class of persons 
in our time, whose misfortunes are alleviated by tenderness, 
and whose increasing numbera ai"e at once the evidence and 
the reward of humanity — but by male slaves brought from 
the provinces, whose waste, as they possessed no families, 
was constantly recruited from the remote parts of the em- 
pire. Their numbers must have rendered them formidable, 
for they seem to have worked, like modern galley slaves, in 
chains ; — they must have been treated with great harshness, 
since, among other proofs of it, Cato recommends, as a mat- 
ter of course, to every good economist to sell off his old 
waggons, and tools, and cattle, and his old and sickly slaves — 
and their labour could not have been very efficient, as the al- 
lowance for a grain farm of 125 American acres, a great part 
of which was of course in fallow, was eight men. 

Accordingly, there are two facts decisive as to the general 
productiveness of land. The first is, that as the almost uni- 
versal system of farming was by alternate crops and fallows, 
nearly one half the soil must have been always unemployed. 
The second is, that the average produce of Italy, in the time 

B 



10 

(if Columella, was only lour limes tlic seed — two cii-cumstance* 
\\ lii( li do not now concur in any well cultivated country. 

Nor do the agricultural wiitcrs iMspiiv more favourable opi- 
nions. Tlic \\ orks of CatO) of Varro, of Columella, of Virgil, 
of Palladius, and (»f llic writers whose fragments are contained 
in the collection ascrihed to Constaiitiiie, present, it is true, 
the njost curious details of ancient iiusbandry. There is much 
excellent sense, much admirable practice, many proccssea 
which might furnish suggestions for modeiii improvement; 
but farmei-s who i-esort to tliem for instruction, will rise I 
think from the study, with an impression, that their agriculture 
wasgo\erMed by pi-attices rather than principles; and that 
there is wanting tliat knowledge of the processes of vegeta- 
tion, the composition of soils, and the rotation of ci*ops, w hich 
have given to modern farming its dignity and value. Even 
these useful practices too, are often disfigured by a fantastical 
mixture of suj)erstition and empiricism. >Vhen, for instance, 
Nvc read in Cato a minute description of an incantation, by 
which the dislocated bones of a farmer may be charmed 
back into their places — when Columella directs us to save 
our vines from mice, by trimming them at night during 
a full moon — when Sotion declai-es that an eftectual mode 
of extirpating broom-rape from the fields, is to draw on 
five shells the |)icture of Hercules strangling a lion, and 
bury one in the middle and one in each corner of the field 
— when Democritus will ensure us a thriving garden, if 
we bury an ass's head in the niidtlie of it — and when no 
less than five of the most sober writei-s gi-avely describe 
the remedy by which the hi*oom-rape may be driven frt>m 
all fields, and caterpillars banished instantly from ganlens, 
which was to make a bareiooted, haH'-clad w«mian, with her 
hair dishevelletl, walk three limes round it — when the,se, and 



n 

many similar directions arc given by the great masters ot 
the science, they must be received as evidences of its extreme 
imperfection. Indeed, no one who will compare the rude plough 
of the Romans with the admirable insti'inncnts of France and 
England, or w ill contrast the writings of Columella and Sir 
John Sinclair, can fail to acknowledge how much science and 
the mechanic arts have contributed to agriculture. 

We may derive more instruction from their descendants. 
So naturally do our recollections dwell rather on the past 
than the pi*escnt Italy — so much more arc we attracted 
by its ruins than by its prosperity, that we have not suffi- 
ciently admired its agriculture. Yet Italy is probably at this 
day the best cultivated country in Europe. It supports from 
its soil a population greater in proportion to its extent than 
any other; and such is its admirable system of culture, so 
triumphant its industry, that, though suffering from the 
worst of all evils, oppressive and profligate governments — al- 
though a great extent of country, not less than 200 miles long, 
and from 25 to 60 miles wide, is in a considerable degree 
lost to cultivation, by the malaria, which has depopulated the 
fairest part of the old Roman empire; still the absolute amount 
of its produce was never pei'haps greater than at present. 
They have accomplished this, by substituting for the long fal 
lows of antiquity a judicious rotation of crops, and by ter- 
racing the feet and sides of the mountains, so as to render 
them eminently productive. The minute division of the soil 
forms the peculiar feature of its agriculture. When the in- 
fluence of Christianity had abolished slavery, the manumitted 
slaves, who were then the only labourers, became tenants, and 
have so continued to the present day. Five-sixths of its po- 
pulation are small ftirmers, working the land on shares of 
one-half or one-third. These cultivators of a few acres have 



18 

rendered tlieir country so fertile, tliat from one end of Italy 
to the other — from the irrigated meadows of Lorn hardy to 
the volcanic regions of Naples, if we except some parts of 
the Point's dominions — there is scarcely a single spot which 
does not pi*oduce the utmost which its situation and natural 
fertility admits. The eye rests with delight iipim the magni- 
ficent prospects of Piedmont and the Milanese; on that busy 
scene of industry, which sustains a population of one |)ei'son 
to every two acres — where three-fourths of its gross produce 
is disposable, and where the fields are constantly covered 
with a succession of varied and abundant harvests. The dis- 
trict near Vesuvius has a p«»pulation of 5000 souls to the 
sqiuirc league, a proportion unknown to any other part of 
Europe: while still further south, in Sorrento, their rotation 
of eight crops in five years, and one of them a cotton crop, is 
pronounced by a competent judge to be " the best managed 
and the most productive of any in the world." 

It is however rivalled, if it be not equalled, by many parts 
of Flanders; where from a soil more fertile than Italy, though 
in a climate less genial, they extract from their land by in- 
dustry and the application of manures, a rapid succession of 
crops, probably not inferior to those of any other country. 
The details of Italian and Flemish husbandry — the Italian 
rotation of crops, and the Flemish management of cattle and 
manures — are worthy of attentive study by all in this country, 
who woidd improve in scientific faiining. They would often 
suggest modes of culture, better adapted to our climate than 
the practices of England, which we are too prone to fiillow 
without making allowance for the essential (liflerence between 
the seasons of the two countries. 

The general cultivation of Girat Britain is calculated to 
inspire a mingled feeling of admiration and surprise: of ad- 



13 

miration at what she has accomplished, and surprise at what 
she has neglected. She has many advantages: her exube- 
rant capital, her commerce, her manufactures, furnishing to 
agriculture so large a body of domestic consumers, have ena- 
bled her to cover a large portion of her soil with a picturesque 
and beautiful cultivation, which no stranger can contemplate 
without satisfaction. Yet a nearer inquiry excites astonish- 
ment, that this very success has not induced a more enlarged 
and better cultivation. 

There is an extraordinary difference in the calculations of 
British economical and statistical writers on that subject: 
but the safest estimates show, that a proportion of from 
one-third to nearly one-half of the surface of Great Britain 
is waste and almost unproductive. Of these waste lands, 
it is again estimated, that one-fourtli or one-fifth might 
be enclosed and cultivated, and the rest employed for 
sheep or for planting timber. The consequence is, that 
she does not raise grain enough for her own consump- 
tion; the average importations of wheat and wheat flour, 
during the last twenty years, having been about four mil- 
lions of bushels a year, amounting to nearly thirteen or 
fourteen days consumption. Whether it be desirable to re- 
sort to the waste lands to supply this deficiency, is a ques- 
tion of their domestic policy which it is for her alone to 
decide. But even a stranger may be allowed to perceive, 
that, without abstracting capital from other pursuits to re- 
claim waste lands, the deficiency of England might be rea- 
dily supplied by the simpler process of a better husbandry 
on lands now under cultivation. " A very small portion," 
says one of her best authors, Dickson, writing in 1804, "a 
very small portion of the cultivated parts of the island has, 
even at this advanced period, been brought under a judicious 



14 

Hiid well t oiiduitcd aystcin of liiisliandrv. Jniniensc tracts ol 
land, of (lie move rich and fertile kinds, may be still met with 
in dinVrent jKirLs of the kin,ii;d(Mn, that are mana,(^ed in very 
imperfect and disadvantageous methods of farmin,!^ ;" and he 
adopts (lie calculation of Sir John Sinclair, that 30 millions of 
acres aif either in a state of \n aste. or cultivated under a very 
defective system of husbandry. Even still later, in 1812 and 
1816, we learn from the valuable writings of Dr. Rigby, that 
some of the very counties which Dickson considei-s as the 
most perfect, ai*e still very deficient: that in Essex the 
wretched system of licet ploughing and whole year fallows is 
still pertinaciously adhered to — that Sussex is behind almost 
all othei-s, at least half a century — that in Chcsiiire the anti- 
quated system of a century back still prevails — that Shrop- 
shire is subject to a very ineflicient cultivation ; and that in 
short " a great part of the kingdom is in a lamentable state 
of agricidlural unproductiveness." Some of these defects arc 
the result of ignorance and prejudice. With all the splendid 
success of Mr. Coke, of >iorfolk, in rendering his land nearly 
ten times as productive, he used the drill husbandry for six- 
teen years before any individual followed his example ; and 
even now his improvements are supposed by himself to ex- 
tend about one mile in a year. Other causes, however, are 
not wanting, and some that to us seem almost incredible. 
For instance, nearly one-half the arable land of England is 
held in common; its culture is therefore subject to irstridions 
either of ( usloni or law, and the {mrticm of each conunoner is 
often so arranged, that he cannot ci-oss-plough his land for 
fear of titspassing on his neighbour. These, it may be easily 
imagined, do not produce more than half the value which 
might be diawn Irom them, by enclosure and exclusive 
iwssession. Again, tbo fault which is constantly deploi-ed 



II 

by her writers, and one tliat seems peculiarly strange 
where the economy of human labour is so well understood, 
is the superfluous expense of cultivation by the multitude 
of horses. It is at this day common in England, to see 
lour, five, and six horses, following each other in single file, 
before a plough, in fields of a few acres, and in soils where 
two horses might easily accomplish the w ork ; to see teams of 
four horses employed, where two would be quite sufficient; 
and this notwithstanding the successful introduction of the 
Scotch mode of ploughing, as in this country. The conse- 
quence is, that England and Scotland arc estimated to con- 
tain 3,500,000 horses, consuming the value of fifty millions 
of dollars, and the produce of sixteen millions of acres, 
being nearly one-half the productive lands of the king- 
dom. The condition of a large proportion of the tenants 
too, is, in many respects, unfavourable. The soil of Eng- 
land is owned by about 40,000 persons, and a greater part 
of the leases are at will, or for a short term from five to 
nine years, the better policy of long leases not having yet be- 
came general. Lastly come the tithes and taxes ; the tithes, 
which take from three-fourths of the occupiers of land iu 
England one-tenth of the gross produce, exeu when the re- 
mainder may afford no remuneration for their labours — and 
the taxes, which, combined with the tithes, on an average 
amount to more than one-half of the rent. 

However consoling these views may be to our own faults, 
it is more agreeable to dwell on the pleasing side of English 
£a.rming, and to derive instruction rather from their success 
than their misfortunes. And truly there is something admira- 
ble in the generous and buoyant and elastic spirit w ith which the 
genius and industry of that counti-y have upheld its agriculture, 
under a complication of burdens, such as never before pressed 



16 

on tlu' soil ot any country. By her peculiar condition — b) 
tlie |M>()r laws — the tiflics — the taxes of every description, 
Fin^^land was reduced to a condition which demanded every 
eneri^y of the farmer, and tasked to the utmost every i*csource 
of capital and inventi«»n. On a moderate computation, an 
acre of the best farniini^ land, in order to iTpay Nsith profit 
tlu* labours of culti\ ation, must yield about thii'ty or forty dol- 
lars: and accordin,e;ly it was made to produce that sum. By 
liberal investments of capital, by judicious and economical 
husbandry, they have extorted from a soil not naturally dis- 
tinguished for fertility, and a climate inconstant and treacher- 
ous, an amount of produce w liich enabled the farmers of Eng- 
land and Scotland to pay a higher rent than is yielded by 
some of the finest soils of Italy. If indeed we were to select 
any district whci-e skill and capital have been most successful 
against natural obstacles, I incline to think we should name 
the Lothians of Scotland. 

That the examjdo of those countries may not be lost to us, 
we should habitually coinjiare them with our own. It is now 
about a century and a half, since the peojde of the United States 
have been principally occupied in reducing to cultivation their 
extensive forests. Their agriculture bears, of course, the im- 
pression of their circumstances. AVhile land was cheap, and 
capital small and labour dear, it was more natural to irclaim 
new lioUis than to restore the old, and to dift'use over a wide 
surface of cheap land the greatest power of dear labour. The 
growth of cities — the ceeation of new classes of society — 
the increase of manufactures, have now concentei*ed our popu- 
l.'ition, and by the formation of a permanent home market, are 
calculated to give a new <hai'a(ter to our fanning. In ven- 
turing upon that subject, it is fit to speak with entire firedom. 
The obji'ct of «Mir society is our iinpi'uveiuent. Instead, there- 



n 

fore, of dwelling' upon the merits of our farming, which is in 
many particulars deserving of great commendation, I shall 
pi*efer the less agreeable office of indicating the means of its 
advancement, believing that the humblest exercise of pa- 
triotism is, to praise our country without striving to improve it. 

The condition of tlie soil of Pennsylvania may be examined, 
first, in relation to its uncultivated land, and secondly, with 
i-egard to its husbandry. 

According to the opinion of a very distinguished geologist, 
Mr. Maclure, Pennsylvania contabis more good land than 
any Atlantic state in the union; that is, she possesses a 
greater extent of that formation — the secondary — which from 
its position, the course of its rivers, and the mineral deposits 
which belong to it, is best calculated to sustain a numerous 
population. These advantages, it must not be dissembled, 
have not attracted their due share of attention. I incline to 
think tiiat the best portion of Pennsylvania, that which is des- 
tined to act hereafter the most distinguished part in our agri- 
culture, has never yet felt the plough. It is indeed lamentable 
to see so much of this long-established state totally abandoned 
— to look at extensive ti'acts of rich country without a road 
or an inhabitant — to meet, almost in the heart of Pennsylvania, 
the Seneca Indians from New York, hunting through a wilder- 
ness of nearly a hundred miles in extent, with less interruption 
perhaps than they would have found two centuries ago. Tlicrc 
are seventeen adjoining counties, north and west of the Susque- 
hanna, containing an extent of more than 18,000 square miles, 
with a population of about six souls for every square mile. 
There ai'e five adjoining counties, containing nearly 6,000 
square miles, without one inliabitant to the square mile. There 
are three adjoining counties, more than 3,500 squai-e miles in 

extent, with only one human being for every two and a half 

c 



18 

squure miles. I seem to be speaking of some desert on tlic 
Yellow Stone, not of a fine region within four days ride of 
riiihuUIpliia, wliich was possessed in full sovereignty by 
rennsylvania more than sixty years ago— an anticiuity in 
this country — a pci'iod when the great emjjires of the west^ 
Ohio, Kentucky, and Indiana, who will outnumber Pennsyl- 
vania in the next Congress, were not among the prophecies of 
men. There is no example among the old states of a w ilder- 
ne^s like this. It has lost to the state half a million of inhabi- 
tants. It has condemned to barrenness a magnificent region, 
that should have been filled with wealth, with intelligence, 
and power. If we cast our eyes over the map of the union, 
Ave may discern in Vii-ginia, a district of country to which 
the nation has three times i*esorted for its chief magisti*ate. 
A lai'ge jiroportion of the corresponding part of Pennsylvania 
is one unbroken wilderness, the habitual hunting ground of 
savages. In the cause of this calamity we may learn a great 
lesson, not merely of agricultural, but political wisdom. 
Something certainly must be ascribed to the unhappy contro- 
versy with Connecticut, which, nearly half a century of con- 
fusion, of concession, and of compromise, has but recently 
closed. But the greater part of the evil may be traced to 
bad legislation. If, when the state sold its vacant lands, 
they had been previously surveyed and marked, as those of 
the United States were, they would have been clieerfuUy 
bought and easily settled; but the unfortunate policy of sell- 
ing the right to land, leaving the purchaser to find it, and the 
mistaken hope of peopling a country, by re(|uiring pajwr con- 
ditions of settlement, instead of leaving it to grow with the 
natural course of enttrpiise — these have introduced a fatal 
spirit of spe( ulation and ol fraud, which thirty years have not 
yet completely repaired. Entire families were ruined by the 



n 

madness of these delusions. In the inextricable confusion of 
interfering claims, the same lands were again and again sold 
by fraud or ignorance, till the maps of some of our counties 
exhibit a mosaic of conflicting surveys, which no science ex- 
cept law can ever bring into harmony. Then came the re- 
action of disappointment. Men turned with disgust from a 
scene of so much suffering, and dreading a lawsuit on the 
threshold of every man's property, abandoned in despair the 
attempt to settle lands so surrounded with uncertainty and 
trouble. There are now in Philadelphia — there are perhaps 
now listening to me, many owners of thousands, of 10, 20, 
and 50 thousands of acres of land, which they have never 
seen, and of which they would scarcely know the existence, 
but from the periodical visit of the tax gatherer^ lands which 
might be rendered magnificent possessions, surpassing now 
in extent, and hereafter in value, the most splendid estates in 
Europe. There are others who, deceived by exaggerated es- 
timates — seduced by well painted drawings of streams that 
have never flowed, except in the eloquence of the deputy sur- 
veyor; of groves of white oaks, and beeches and maples luxu- 
riating only upon the parchments of the land office, go on 
year after year, paying taxes for lands, undiscovered and un- 
discoverable, or which, if they really exist, may be again 
paid for by one, by two, by three, I have known as much as 
four other claimants, residing perhaps in an adjoining street. 
In the midst of these conflicts, there grows up on the soil, 
either an honest settler always willing to purchase, or else 
some intruder, originally perhaps not ill disposed, till the 
absence of all control, and a gradual attachment to his new 
residence, begin to inspire hopes of wresting it from the 
owner. He then insinuates doubts of the title, defaces the 
marks of surveys, and shimning the proprietor, till 31 years 



20 

may ripoii Iiis possession into a title, lives on in anxious ob- 
3(iii-ity, festering, discontented and i-cstlcss, imagining in 
evciy passing stranger, the approach of his most dreaded 
enemy. Such was once the too ii-equent picture of the con- 
dition of the interior of Pennsylvania ; and even now, although 
it has nearly passed, its eftects are still visible in the anxietj 
\\ith which emigrants go round our state, as if thei*e wei*e 
some infection hei*e, and pass on to remoter and poorer fields, 
where their industry will at least be safe. 

There can be no hoyxi for the agriculture of Pennsylvania, 
till this source of disquiet is completely removed; and fortu- 
nately for us, time, in revealing all the eri-oi-s of that system, 
has furnished the means of remedying them. Every owner 
of land may now ascertain w liether there are other ( laimants 
to his land, and readily adjust their mutual pretensions. 
Every purchaser may now satisfy himself as to the title of the 
seller; so that while suffering from our owti improvidence, 
we may be allowed to console ourselves for it, by reflecting 
that, while the states around us have been peopled to their 
bordei*s, Pennsylvania possesses an extent of well watered, 
healthy, rich, cheap land, convenient to both the atlantic 
and western markets, which however hidden from the world 
by her past mismanagement, now offei*s abundant tempta- 
tions to industry, and will largely contribute to augment 
the po])ulation and resouires of the state. To give to these ad- 
vantages all their attraction, however, much more exertion is 
necessary than we have hitherto witnessed. There are few 
families in the city, who have not some connexion with the 
lands of the interior ; there are many who have extensive es- 
tates there. To these 1 would recommend most emphatically, 
to visit and examine their possessions: to be seen, and felt, 
and known as the owneis: to diseiuiiniher themselves at once 



of the burden of paying taxes for what does not exist, or 
might be worthless if found; to encourage every beneficial im- 
provement, and by all the means of conciliation and liberality, 
which tlicy are, I know, equally able and w illing to extend, iden- 
tify their own with the growing interests of the new settlements. 
There is still another step. How many well educated young 
men are there among us, languishing in the long noviciate of 
some profession, or wasting in indolence the finest years of 
their existence, who, in the new counties of the interior, might 
lay broad and deep the foundations of a splendid prosperity 
for themselves and their families. They will be received with 
welcome by those whose fortunes they have come to share; and 
their new interests and new connexions, will soon render their 
situation as agreeable and distinguished as it will ultimately 
be profitable. 

There is more satisfaction in turning from the wild to the 
settled parts of Pennsylvania. The old counties between the 
Delaware and the mountains, with the exception of Pliiladel- 
phia, contain a population of about fifty to the square mile. 
Their mixed pursuits, their division into consumers and raisers 
of produce, as well as their access to the markets of Philadel- 
phia and Baltimore, afford advantages not enjoyed perhaps by 
any section of the union. The soil, without being generally 
distinguished for fertility, is fitted for all agricultural pur- 
poses. The farms averaging probably from fifty to one hundred 
acres of cleared land — the taxes light — the farming imple- 
ments, in general, good — and the best breeds of cattle within 
reach. Yet, notwithstanding all these elements of the most 
enviable state of agriculture, we must acknowledge that our 
farming is still very imperfect. If any evidence of this were 
wanting, it might be afforded by the actual produce and the 
rents of our lands. 



n 

It was stated two years aiijo by one of the vice-presidents 
of this society, that the average crop of wheat in Lancastei* 
county, which is considered the i-ichcst in the state, did not 
|Ht)l)aI)Iy exceed lifteen bushels per acre. Now the average 
of all France is more than eighteen bushels — the average of 
all England twenty-four — and in some counties, as in Middle- 
sex and the Lothians, forty. With regard to rents, it is not 
easy to speak with accui*acy. If we except the alluvial mea- 
dows near this city, which rent for nine or ten dollars per 
acre, I should not estinnite the average i*ent of cleared land 
with improvements, within the district Just mentioned, at 
more than two or three dollars. In Italy, in England, and 
in Scotland, lands not particularly favourcd by vicinity to 
markets, rent for from sixteen to twenty dollars, and in the 
neighbourhood of large cities, from thirty to forty dollars. 

The causes of this inferiority may be ascribed to two cha- 
ractei'istics of our farming — a disproportionate capital and 
an inefticient cultivation. The lirst is a striking deficiency. 
Agriculture, though a very common, is not, I think, a favourite 
pui'suit in Pennsylvania. It attracts few from the other classes, 
and its ranks arc rather thinned by desertion than i-ecruited 
by volunteers. The enterprising shun it for its inactivity; 
the gay, from its loneliness; the prudent, I'rom its unproduc- 
tiveness; so that although a great propoi'tion of the wealth of 
the state is fixed in land, an exceedingly small capital is de- 
voted to fai'ming. We too often exhaust our means in clear- 
ing or purchasing a farm, leaving scareely any resources for 
stocking and cultivatiiig it. Now an English farmer, w ith a 
certain capital, rents a farm, as a manufacturer rents a house, 
and devotes his ca|)ital to extract from it the greatest possible 
produce. Accordingly his proci'fdings seem almost incredible 
f the possessors of lai*gc American farms. It has become a 



settled maxim of English husbandry, that before occupying 
good arable land, a capital of from thirty to forty dollars per 
acre is necessary. On an estate of three hundred acres, there- 
fore, a farmer begins by expending in preparations nine thou- 
sand dollars; and his annual disbursements, in labour, ma- 
nure, and other articles, are about five thousand dollars a year. 
His operations are all on a proportionate scale. To contract 
to pay a rent of twenty or thirty thousand dollars ; to expend 
in a single year, on lime alone, eleven thousand dollars; to 
pay two thousand dollars a year for rape-cake to manure tur- 
nips; to make a compost heap, costing four thousand dollars — 
such are the combinations of wealth and skill which produce 
good husbandry. These we cannot, and we need not, imitate. 
But they may teach us that we should measure our enterprises 
by our means; and that an ill stocked farm can no more be 
profitable than an empty factory. Men praise the bounty of 
nature. It is much safer to rely on her justice, which as rarely 
fails to reward our care as to avenge our neglect. Our farms 
then, though small, are generally too large for our capitals; 
that is, we work badly too much ground, instead of cultivating 
well a little. In the estimates of finance, two and two 
do not always make four — in the arithmetic of agriculture, 
two are generally more than four. It is wondeiful, indeed, 
how profusely a small spot of ground will reward good hus- 
bandry. There are in Italy hundreds and thousands of peo- 
ple, living on farms of from four to ten acres, and paying to 
the owner one-third, or one-half, of the produce. The whole 
straw for the Leghorn bonnets, by the exportation of which 
in a single year five hundred thousand dollai*s were gained, 
would grow on two acres. There are in Switzerland some 
hill sides, formed into terraces, which have sold for two thou- 
sand dollars an acre; and in fortunate spots for gardening, as 



2« 

near London, a single acre will yield a clear pi-olit of iioni 
eight to nine hundred (loilai*s a year. Tiiose examples nia> 
perhaps explain, how without the great capitals of England, 
and w ithoiit diminishing our farms, we may gradually render 
them richer and more j)roductive by judicious culture. 

The characteristic merit of modern farming seems to be 
this: The old practice was to draw from land successive grain 
crops, and then leave it to recruit strength enough for a repe- 
tition of them. The modern system seeks to restore the soil, 
not by rest, but by variety — to make one crop be followed by 
another, feeding on different parts or at different deptiis of the 
soil from the preceding. It lias, therefore, for fallows, sub- 
stituted root crops. These support large quantities of cattle, 
which, besides the direct profit from them, affoi*d the means 
of returning sooner and more successfully to the grain ci-ops. 

Now, the defects of our husbandry have relation to this 
system, 

1st. We have not studied sufficiently our sod, with a view 
to establish a judicious rotation of crops, nor adapted our cul- 
tivation to our climate. As an example, I doubt whether we 
appreciate our long autumn, the finest of all our seasons, t<i 
w hich husbandry as yet trusts so little, but which would often 
enable us todraw a second and valuable crop of roots after grain. 
From the result of personal experiments made with that view, 
w hich better farmei-s would, of coui*se, practise more success- 
fully, 1 incline to think, that there are few of our good fields 
fronj which we could not obtain < onsiderable creps of roots, 
planted and gathered after luirvest. Why indeed should we 
noU when they are constantly obtained in Spain, in ItiUy, in 
Flanders, and even in Ihr climate of England and Scotland? 

2d. >> e iiave not yet succeeded in diffusing widely the best 
breeds of cattle, from the excellent stock now easy of access 



to us all. There is no subject on which it is more true, that 
a liberal expense is the strictest economy. Natural peculiari- 
ties of form in animals, are either the cause or the indication 
of certain qualities. Judicious observers, by the union of 
similar animals, have given greater development to these qua- 
lities, and established at length distinct breeds with very de- 
cisive superiorities over our ordinary cattle. These should 
be sought by good farmers, as their superior profits far exceed 
the additional price of them. But we are too often tempted 
by the false economy of buying cheap animals, and we are 
frequently misled into the practice of pampering into a sickly 
magnitude, cattle which have no natural facility to fatten. 
This is a mistaken pride, productive of no immediate good, 
and the more to be regretted, since the capital actually lost 
in feeding bad animals might have imported good ones. 

Sd. We are deficient in the cultivation of roots. The cattle 
are left to feed almost exclusively on hay in winter, instead 
of being nourished on roots, more nutritious and cheap in 
themselves, and the culture of which is among the very best 
preparations for the succeeding grain. The extension, on a 
large scale, of the root culture, would alone, I am satisfied, 
give a new face to the agriculture of the state. In the use of 
these, as well as the general feeding of cattle, we should en- 
deavour to adopt what is justly deemed one of the greatest 
discoveries in agriculture — I mean the old Flemish practice, 
now known in England by the name of 

4th. Soiling. In administering food to thoughtless persons, 
it would be deemed strangely improvident to let them eat and 
waste at pleasure. We are more respectful or less judicious 
towards cattle. They are allowed to enter, without restraint, 
fields of luxuriant vegetation; they lie down upon itj they 
trample it under foot; in wet weather their foot-prints com- 

D 



2Q 

init injuries to the ground, which years cannot repair, and 
what is worse than all, the benefit wliich they might confer 
on the land is almost totally lost. Instead of this wasteful 
system, the cattle ai-e kept under comfortable shelter, and 
their food is brouglit to them. An acre of ground thus fur- 
nishes three times as much subsistence as when pastured, and 
the additional expense of cutting is abundantly i-epaid by the 
rich manures which are thus saved. 

There is one other branch of farming, wliich has scarcely 
made its appearance in this country — It is 

5tli. Irrigation. This is, probably, tlie most profitable of 
all modes of culture. Whenever the situation of land will 
permit of its being covered w ith a stream of water, the direct 
nourishment to the plant, the minute subdivision of the soil, 
and the deposit left by the water, these combine to produce 
an amazing fertility. In Lombardy, for instance, the irri- 
gated meadows afford four abundant crops of grass. In the 
dry climate of Spain, they are still more productive. It could 
scarcely be believed, were it not vouched by the personal ob- 
servation of Arthur Young himself, that in the watei-ed fields 
of Valencia, there are actually cut, four, five, six, and seven 
crops of lucei'ne, from two and a half to three feet in height, and 
yielding ten tons of gi'iiss on an acre at each cutting: so that 
on a moderate average an acre yields no less than fifty tons 
of grass, and when broken up, gives three crops in the course 
of a year. It is not wonderful, tlien, that in that country the 
greatest efforts have been made to water their fields ; that i*eser- 
voirs have been constructed, canals cut, wells dug, and ma- 
chines erected for raising water from the rivers, and that 
whole rivers themselves, instead of hastening to the ocean, 
have been made to pause and deposit their extraordinary fer- 
tility. To us the example is peculiarly interesting, since our 



27 

climate resembles that of Spain in its dryness — the defect 
which irrigation is most calculated to repair. It is now al- 
most an established law of this climate, that in midsummer 
there shall arrive a critical season, during which the intense 
heat of our long days is not relieved by rains, and our crops, 
just as they are verging to maturity, are suddenly checked 
and injured, and sometimes destroyed, by the burning in- 
fluence of the sun. But instead of struggling to overcome 
this danger, our farmers, with a want of the characteristic 
spirit of the country, sit down by the side of the most magni- 
ilcent rivers and unfailing streams, and lament the decay of 
their harvests, touching the river banks, without one effort to 
convey to these fields the water which is passing at their feet. 
In this finely watered country, we should surely be able to 
equal the improvements of Spain and Italy ; and he will be a 
great benefactor, who shall exhibit a cheap and efficient mode 
of irrigation. If the first expense be beyond the means of an 
individual, it may be accomplished by the union of interested 
neighbours, and almost any expenditure would be justified by 
the success of a plan, which would at once render our fields 
twice, or five, or ten times more productive. 

The prevailing opinion however is, that even with an im- 
proved culture, the high price of labour in this country ren- 
ders farming an unproductive and hazardous investment of 
capital. This belief has contributed much to retard our hus- 
bandry. I myself think it entirely erroneous. My impres- 
sion is, that a capital employed in judicious agriculture, would 
yield quite as safe and abundant a return, as in most of the 
other pursuits of life among us, and probably superior to th« 
profits of farming in other countries. For instance, the ave- 
rage profit on farming in England, with which we are most 
habituated to compai'e ourselves, is from ten to fifteen per cent. 



2S 

Now, ill this country, tlie pi-ofits ought to be greater. The 
fjuestioii might pcrhaiw be derided by the single fact, that 
while the gi*eater part of our farmers live well and educate 
large families from small farms, the same class of pei-sons in 
England, the rentei-s of farms of about fifty acres, are univer- 
sally allowed to be in a miserable situation ; and on that ac- 
count they were actually exempted from the income tax — a 
forbearance which describes, at once, the measure of that 
wretchedness which could appease or defy even the spirit of 
the Exchequer. But the inquiry is sufficiently interesting to 
tempt us into a comparison, between the arable farms, within 
reach of the markets, of London and Piula(leli)liia — their re- 
spective expenses and pi-otits; that is, the prices at which they 
may be obtained and cultivated, and then tlie prices of the 
pi"oduce of them. The first naturally resolves itself into the 
heads of rent and taxe«, and labour and manui*e. 

The rent of land within twenty-five miles of London, vary- 
ing as it does from two to fifty dollars, it is not easy to esti- 
mate with precision ; but we shall err on the side of modei-a- 
tion, if we place the average rent of good ai-ablc land at ten 
dollars. The taxes and tithes, as they are stated by Sir John 
Sinclair in 1821, would be fifty -three per cent, on this rent, 
say five dollars ; making the rent and taxes on a farm of 200 
acres amount to three thousand dollars. Now, if we except 
our allu\ ial meadows, the average rent of land within the 
same distance from Philadelphia, cannot, 1 think, be estimated 
beyond three dollars. Of tithes there are of course none ; and 
the taxes of all kinds, judging freni those of Bucks county, 
do not exceed twenty-five cents per acre: making the rent 
and taxes of a fami of two hundred acivs six hiuidred and 
fifty dollars. 

Ill the memorial of the English AgricultunU Commit- 



29 

tee of 1819, it is stated, that the tithes and taxes amount 
to one-third of the market price of agricultural productions. 
In this country they form a proportion so inconsidei'able, that 
a single acre of good wheat will pay all the public demands on 
a farm of one hundred acres. 

With regard to labour, I know it is against all our received 
opinions, but I incline to think that farm woi-k in Pennsylva- 
nia is very little dearer, if it be not actually cheaper, than in 
England. The comparison is difficult, because at this dis- 
tance we have not yet seen all the effects which the embar- 
rassments of the last two yeai's have produced on the rate of 
wages — because their nominal wages are generally swelled by 
perquisites, and because in a country, where every sixth or 
seventh person is legally a pauper, the poor rates are in fact 
only a disguised increase of wages. But, rejecting these con- 
siderations, and taking the average wages of day labour to 
be what it was in 1810, fifty-five cents (2s. 6d.) and a dinner 
— and it is not probably now less near London — even this 
•does not, I believe, fall more than about twenty-five or thii'ty- 
five per cent, below the price of day labour in the same dis- 
trict near Philadelphia. But the nominal price of labour is a 
less true mode of comparison, than the actual expense of exe- 
cuting any given work in the two countries. Now, we have 
more long, clear, good working days, and our workmen — as 
I have spoken freely of our faults, I may be allowed to state 
our capacities — our workmen are better fed, moi-e active, 
more intelligent, and more dexterous in their labours. Not to 
speak of the axe, in all the uses of which they have no rivals, 
I believe that three Pennsylvania farmers, with their scythes 
fresh ground and their tough ash cradles, might stand before 
any wheat field in Europe, and challenge twice or thrice 
their number pf reapers. This is no exaggeration. Sir 



80 

■Tuhn Sincluir, iu liis work published as late as l&21,saysy 
that thit'c good reapers will cut an aci*c of wheat in one day. 
Now an American cradlcr will, in a licld with the average 
ci"op of England, cut three, four, and even more acres in one 
day. He further calculates, that the cutting and binding of 
this acre will cost fifteen shillings, from which, if we deduct 
Os. Gt/. as the wages of the binder, who performs his part in 
hiUf a day, there remains 12s. 6d. or 82.75 per acre. Now, 
allowing a moderate average of work for a cradlcr, — three 
acres, — and a high average of wages, — one dollar, — the Ame- 
rican acre will be cut at the price of thirty-three cents, and 
the English acre at two hundred and seventy-five cents j and 
done as well too, lor the dift'erence as to the shattering out of 
grain between good cradling and reaping, is in fact very 
little, and even that may be saved by cutting rather before 
the complete maturity of the grain — a system to which the 
best English practice is now approaching. So too, an English 
labourer, with a driver and lour or five or six hoi-ses, will 
not plough more in a day, than a Pennsylvanian alone with 
two; and no excess of wages to him, can balance the expense 
of a driver and two or three superiluous horses. 

Again, reaping oats in Middlesex is stated to cost 8s. 
(81.75) per acre. The same field in this country would pro- 
bably be cradled for one-sixth of the expense. These details 
might be pursued into other departments of farming labour, 
and they would show, that an aci*c of ground may be pre- 
pared for seed, and the produce carried to market, at an ex- 
pense, if not less, certainly not much greater, in America 
than England.* 

• These estimates may be svipportcil by examples from other branches 
rtl" industry. There can be no fairer me;isiire of prices for instAncc, tlian tlic 
expense of removing, b\ mauu;il labour, •* given quAntity of earth; that i\ 



31 

The means of enriching land, by lime and other manures, 
are cheaper near Philadelphia than near London ; and that 
most important article of husbandry, salt, is much cheaper 
here than in England, where the excise has almost banished 
it from their farm yards. 

The prices of produce may be more readily compared. Of 
the great production of England, wheat, her farmers have 
the monopoly until the price rises to about Si. 8 5. This, 
however, being a scarcity price, is, of course, much above the 
ordinary price. In July last, the average of all England was 
about one dollar and fifty -three cents. At the same period 
with us — a season of great depression — ^the price varied from 
seventy-five to ninety cents, and at the present moment, with- 
out any foreign demand, it may be stated at about one dollar 
and ten cents. The flesh markets are also considerably higher 
in England. But wheat forms only one-fourth of the crops ; 
and in the articles of turnips and potatoes — in the root crops 
generally, the price is probably higher here than in England. 
The great staple of wool is certainly dearer. These elements 
will enable us to contrast with our own, the condition of an 
English farmer, whose rent is three times as great, whose 
taxes are twenty times as great — manures more expensive — 
labour not much cheaper — and prices, on a whole rotation of 
crops, not much higher. 



of excavating a canal, though all the benefits of experience in that business 
are certainly on the side of England. Yet, yard for yard, a canal may pro- 
bably be made as cheap in this country as in England. The latest British 
work of that kind is the Caledonian Canal, completed in 1820. There the 
average price in common earth was six pence, or 11 1-9 cents per cubical 
yard. Now the contracts recently made by the Company for constructing a 
canal by the side of the Schuylkill, are in some cases as low as seven cents 
per cubical yard; in other and peculiar cases, as high as twenty -eight cents; 
but the average of the whole twenty-two miles, will not probably exceed 
11 9-10 cents per cubical yard. 



32 

Yet they make their farnis more productive j they pu^ 
higher rents. Near London or Edinburgh they can afford to 
pay lor wlieat lands twenty or thirty dollars rent per acrej 
and — wliat ought to shame us into better husbandry — in spite 
of all their burdens — in spite of a freight of 3000 miles, a com- 
mission to two mrirhants, and a duty of fifteen per cent., they 
reach our own market with their produce, and arc always 
preferred to us. But then they raise twice or thrice as much 
wheat, and probably five times as much of other produce. 
They have forty bushels of wheat, and fifty of barley, and 
sixty or seventy of oats, and twelve hundred bushels of tur- 
nips, and four liundred bushels of potatoes; all following each 
other with tiie least practicable intervals. They succeed better 
than we do, because, in fact, they are better farmei's than we 
ai'e. But the reason of the difference is, simply, that we will 
not bestow on our lands the same well directed labour, or the 
fiftieth part of the capital which they intrust to theii*s. \Mien- 
ever these have been ai>plied, as in other countries, our soil 
has never refused returns as abundant. Of this the premium 
crops of our agricultural societies affurd decisive evidence : 
and we have recently seen an experiment, which I mention as 
illustrating at once the judicious employment of capital, the 
productiveness of small spots of ground, and the benefits of 
soiling. The Pennsylvania Hospital has in its neighbourhood 
fourteen acres of ground, from wliich, during the last year, 
were soiled seventeen cows. Some of these, as their milk 
failed, wei-c replaced by others. But an account of this ex. 
pense, and of all the other charges, was accurately kept, 
and credited witli the market price of the pi-oducc, either 
consumed in the hospital or sold at market. The clear pro- 
fits amounted to more than two thousand three hundred dol- 
lars. 



33 

These calculations arc, of course, not applicable to the re- 
mote farmers, whose markets are liabitually less valuable, and 
who arc now suffering under the extinction of the accustomed 
demands fi-om abroad. Their embarrassments should, how- 
ever, direct their industry to new channels; and there are, 
fortunately, now presented to the farmers of Pennsylvania, 
two distinct branches of industry, which may enable them to 
retrieve their losses, and t^ive a new impulse to the husbandry 
of the state. I mean to speak of the growth of wool, and the 
cultivation of flax and hemp. 

The consumption of woollens in the United States cannot 
be less than twenty or thirty millions of dollars, of which the 
greater part is manufactured in the country. It is needless 
to be exact as to the amount, since my purpose will be explain- 
ed by the facts, that the domestic supply of wool is not equal 
to the domestic demand — that the manufactories of Pennsyl- 
vania receive much of their wool from abroad — and that wool 
is at this moment probably dearer in Pennsylvania than in 
England, or perhaps in any of the wool growing countries; 
and this w hile we possess the finest breeds of sheep, capable of 
an almost indefinite increase. These unhappy animals have 
been the victims of the most extraordinary caprice. When the 
war of the Peninsula threw into this country some of the very 
best breeds of Spain, they were eagerly purchased at extra- 
vagant prices. But, in too many instances, the owners were 
deceived by calculations of their very small consumption of 
food ; and they omitted to adopt for them, what in the long 
winters of this climate is indispensable, the turnip culture. 
Large flocks were, therefore, crowded into narrow fields; 
w here, as there was soon no other means of subsistence, their 
hunger forced them to eat the roots, and they were then de- 
nounced as utterly destructive to grass lands. Their ijiade- 



3t 

quatc supply ot" winter lood too wits soon cxhauslcd, iiiid tluy 
weiT then irproarhcil lor their voracity. Even this migiit be 
borne, wliilc tlio war price of wool repaid the expenses of 
buying subsistence for tjicm, but when peace diminished their 
value, Nvitliout lessening their appetite, the owTiei-s, disgusted 
with a stock which they did not know how to manage, sacri- 
ficed them as rasldy as they had houglit them, gave them 
away, and almost drove them away from their faiins. Thus 
entire flocks of the finest merino sheep were devoted to the 
knife, for no other reason but that, contrary to the wish and 
expectation of the owner, they would persist in eating. The 
extent of these saci'ifices is scarcely credible. A very re- 
spectable butcher assured me, that he bought, for one dollar a 
head, a Hock of merinos, among which was an imported ram, 
who the owner declared, and I have no doubt truly, had cost 
one thousand dollars. That extravagance has now passed, 
and excellent merino sheep may be procured, well calculated 
to cover the interior of Pennsylvania with a most productive 
soui'ce of wealth. On the rich natural herbage of the woods 
they would subsist, without any expense, during a greater 
jiart of the year, and a small field of turnips woidd carry 
them through the winter. The only serious obstacle in the 
less populous districts is the wolf, and he is fast disappearing. 

The culture of flax and hemp in Pennsylvania has been 
hitherto limited by the imperfection of our machinery for 
working it, and by the inferiority of our dew-retting to the K\i- 
ropean practice of water-retting. Accordingly our trade in flax 
consists chiefly in exporting the seed to the Irish farmers, 
wjio, after raising and prepaiing it, return it to our factories. 
It is selling the fountain and buying back the stream. 

The society has been for some time engaged in endeavoiirs 
to remedy tliis deficiencv, and the result of the exhibitions this 



day inspire a conlidcnt liope of their success. We liave just ex- 
amined a machine scarcely less impfirtant than the cotton-gin, 
by which all the expensive and troublesome labours of dew 
and water-retting are superseded ; which will prevent the de- 
terioration both in the colour and strength of the fibre caused 
by those processes; which will save the whole quantity — about 
one-half — now lost in the ordinary method ; and by enabling 
us to gather the flax before ripening, save the land fiom the 
most exhausting process of all plants, the seeding. By the gene- 
ral adoption of this machine, the farmers may increase their cul- 
tivation of flax and hemp — prepare it themselves — and pro- 
vide a cheap supply for the whole consumption of the country. 
Nor is this all. As the flax manufactiu'es cheapen, their con- 
sumption will of course increase, till they may be made to 
regain that ascendancy in general use which they lost by the 
cheapness of cotton, and enable the farmers of the middle 
states to engage in a generous competition with the cotton 
growers of the south. This expectation may not be visionary. 
The great consumption of cotton is due to the machinery. 
Now this machine will greatly diminish the cost; and the 
manufactories of this country can, it is said, work flax as 
easily as cotton. If, then, the same facilities be given to flax 
or hemp, their prosperity may be equal; since they enter with 
great advantage into our rotation of crops, and the actual pro- 
duce on an acre is twice as great as that of cotton. 

If, gentlemen, I have wearied you with these details, you 
will ascribe it to the deep conviction, that nothing is more im- 
portant to this community than to extend the taste for agricul- 
ture, from which the habits of the last twenty years, and the 
present depressed value of its produce, combine to estrange 
ns. AVc, in Permsylvania, have reached precisely that point 
where, witli all the finest materials for good husbandry, one 



36 

strp only is necessary to ensure distinejiiislied sik cess. Why 
ilien can we not make this final effort? While all around us 
are roused into an honourable zeal lor agricultui*c — while Vir- 
.^inia possesses so many societies devoted to her cultivation — 
while the most distint^uished gentlemen from distant parts of 
Mai-yland crowded a few months since to their fine exhibition 
at Baltimore — while almost eveiT county in New York has 
its agricultural society and its cattle show, why is it that 
this Pennsylvania, this land emphatically of farmers, suf- 
fers herself to be outstripped in this generous cai'eer? A\ by 
is it that, although the legislature has assigned a fund for 
an agi'icultural society in every county, that with the ho- 
nourable exception of Bucks and Chester and Susquehanna 
and Franklin and Allegheny, whom I enumerate in justice 
to theii" spirit, the farmers of Pennsylvania have never yet 
found leisure to associate for the advancement of their own 
best interests ? The establishment of these societies through- 
out the state, would be among the surest means of pro- 
moting its improvement. They inspire mutual confidence — 
they kindle mutual competition — they draw into notice the 
skill of experienced cultivators — they diffuse useful informa- 
tion — and, more than any other measure, they tend to im- 
prove and exalt the character of the Avrmer. The exhibitions, 
too, are admiiablc auxiliaries. By placing in tlicir most 
attractive lights the labours of industry, they reward the de- 
serving, while they stimulate the indolent, and enlist in the 
great cause of |)ublic improvement all the pleasures of social 
enjoyment and the enthusiasm of emulation. What indeed can 
be moi-e exhilarating than the assemblage of a healthy, well 
clad, free, happy people, surrounded by the fruits of their 
well directed industiy — the animals which display their kind- 
ness — tiie iniph inents whi( h attest their ingenuity. A> ho i-. 



37 

tlicre even on tliis side of the Atlantic, who does not read with 
more pleasure the accounts of the agiicultural meetings at 
Holkham, tlian of the coronation at Westminster, or the as- 
semblage of sovereigns at Troppau ? Who did not feel more 
satisfaction at the exhibitions of Massachusetts or Maryland, 
than in the gaudiest displays of military power? 

If I have failed to prove that the pursuits of agriculture 
may be as lucrative as other employments, it will be an easier 
task to vindicate their pleasures and their importance. I need 
not dwell on that retirement, one of the purest enjoyments of 
this life, and the best preparation for the future — on those 
healthful occupations — on that calmness of mind — on that high 
spirit of manliness and independence, which naturally belong 
to that condition. These are attractions which must have 
deep roots in the human heart, since they have in all times 
fascinated at once the imagination and won the judgment of 
men. But I may be allowed to say, that in this nation agri- 
culture is probably destined to attain its highest honours, and 
that the country life of America ought to possess peculiar 
attractions. The pure and splendid institutions of this people 
have embodied the bi-ightest dreams of those high spirits, who 
in other times and in other lands have lamented or struggled 
against oppression — tliey have realized the fine conceptions 
which speculative men have imagined — which wise men have 
planned, or brave men vainly perishe<l in attempting to estab- 
lish. Their influence in reclaiming the lost dignity of man, 
and inspiring the loftiest feelings of personal independence, 
may be traced in every condition of our citizens^ but as all 
objects ai*e most distinct by insulation, their effects ai'e i)ecu- 
liarly obvious in the country. 

The American farmer is the exclusive, absolute, uncon- 
trolled proprietor of the soil. His tenure is not from the 



38 

•government; the .a;overnmcnt derives its power from liini. 
There is above him nothing l)ut God and the laws; no here- 
ditary authority usurping the distinctions of personal genius ; 
no established church spreading its dark shadow between him 
and heaven. His frugal goverruncnt neither desii*es nor dares 
to oppress the soil ; and the altars of religion arc supported 
only by the voluntary offerings of sincere piety. His pur- 
suits, which no per\ er.sion can render injurious to any, ai'e di- 
rected to the common benefit of all. In multiplying the boun- 
ties of Providence, in the improvement and embellishment of 
the soil — in the care of the inferior animals committed to his 
( harge, he will find an ever varying and interesting employ- 
ment, dignified !)y the union of liberal studies, and enlivened 
by the exercise of a simple and generous hospitality. His 
character assumes a loftier interest by its influence over the 
public liberty. It may not be foretold to what dangers this 
country is destined, when its swelling population, its expand- 
ing teri'itory, its daily complicating interests, sjiall awake 
the latent passions of nun, and reveal the vulnerable points 
of our institutions. But whenever these perils come, its 
most steadfast security, its unfailing reliance will be on that 
column of landed propriettn-s — the men of the soil and oi" the 
country — standing aloof from the passions whit h agitate 
denser communities — well educated, brave, and indepeTi- 
dent — the friends of the government, without soli( iting its 
favours — the advocates of the people, without descending to 
Hatter their passions; these n>en, rooted like their own fo- 
rests, may yet interpose between the factions of the tountry, 
to heal, to defend, and to save. 

There are many such men in this nation; and ilivvc wai 
one, whom the old among us loved, and the youngest vene- 
rate — whom we may proudly place by the side of llie master 



39 

spirits of the best ages — the man whom his country's danger 
always sought at his farm, and his country's blessings always 
followed there — the model of American farmers. His memory 
is in all our hearts, and his example may well inspire a fond- 
ness for those pursuits which Washington most loved, and 
teach us that there is no condition in which our lives may be 
more usefid — in which we may more honour ourselves and 
serve the country. 



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